Chapter 9 vampire in the village

At the turn of a mountain path, two tall and straight poplar trees stand majestically, overlooking a small village that was originally inconspicuous.The small village, called Potter's Pond, consisted of only a few families.A man has wandered into the place once, wearing a costume of bold style and color, a vivid magenta coat, a white top hat slanted over his fragrant black curls, and further down can be seen Two vigorous Byronic moustache. Why did he wear such an eye-catching and strange ancient costume, but at the same time, he wore the air of fashion and swaggered through the streets?It was indeed a mystery, and one of many, all of which came to light when the mystery of his fate was at last solved.The point here is that when he walks past the poplars he disappears; as if melting into the diffuse morning light or drifting into the morning breeze blowing.

It was a week before his body was found a quarter of a mile away, lying on a jagged rockery in a terraced garden leading into a bleak, shuttered house known as "Greg Lankey Grange".Just before his disappearance, he was overheard apparently arguing with others and belittling their homeland as "a nasty little village"; it can be inferred that he greatly stimulated the local people's feelings for their homeland. feelings, they killed him in a fit of rage.At least the local doctors could certify that a severe blow to the skull might have been the cause of death, and that the cranial injury had probably been caused by a club or club.This phenomenon is basically consistent with what people say: rather savage country people attacked him.But the problem is that after a lot of hard work, all parties have not found a clue to lock the farmer.The jury investigating the cause of death finally ruled that the man was killed by Doe.

Perhaps a year or two later, the issue resurfaced in a curious fashion: a series of events culminated in Dr. Marlborough finally getting on a train bound for Potter's Pond.The doctor had a plump, round, swarthy complexion, and was affectionately called "Mulberry" by his close friends, to tease him of his features being comparable to the deep purple Mulberry.There is also a friend who is with the doctor. Whenever he encounters such problems, he often asks him for advice.Although the doctor looks a bit stupid, but he has a pair of insightful eyes, and he has a strong sense of perception: the result of his deliberation is to seek help from the little priest. His name is Brown, and he handled a poisoning case a long time ago. acquainted from time to time.The little priest sat across from the doctor, with the look of a sick baby listening attentively to the doctor's orders; while the doctor took the trouble to explain the real reason for his trip.

"The gentleman in the magenta coat said that 'Potter's Pond' was a dirty little village. I don't agree with that. However, it is indeed remote, isolated, and somewhat eccentric, like a village a hundred years ago. villages. The old girls there are really old girls who spin and weave at home—damn it, you can almost imagine them spinning. And the ladies aren't just ladies, they're ladies; A pharmacist is not called a pharmacist, but a person who takes medicine, or a person who dispenses medicine. They admit that there is a doctor like me who works with people who take medicine. However, I am too tender in their eyes. Because I'm only 57 years old, and I've only lived in the county for 28 years. The solicitor looks like he has 28,000 years of experience. There is also an old fishing captain in the village, who looks like a Dickens illustration. He has a lot of daggers and squids in his house, and a telescope."

"I reckon," said Father Brown, "that there will always be some old fishing captains washed ashore. But I can't see how they got washed so far inland." "A remote, lifeless place in the outback has to have one of these little creatures to be complete," joked the doctor. "Of course, there can't be a decent priest there, belonging to the Tory Party and the High Church. This sect is old enough to say that it still retains a legacy that can be traced back to the time of Archbishop Lauder. An old woman's words are too old to be wise. The old clergyman is gray-haired, studious, and more easily frightened than spinsters. Indeed, those ladies, though they follow the Puritan rules, sometimes say Will speak very plainly, like a true Puritan. Once or twice I have heard old maid Stiles-Carew speak with words as vivid as the Bible. The venerable old The pastor worked hard on his bible; but I can almost imagine him closing his eyes when he saw those words. Well, you know I'm not very fashionable. I just can't stand the noise and the funny The 'Frivolous Boy'—”

"These 'frivolous teenagers' couldn't stand that kind of life," said Father Brown. "That's really pathetic." "But I'm different from the people in this prehistoric village. How can I live in the real world," the doctor continued. "Also, that's pretty much the rest of the briefing, now it's time for me to talk about the 'big scandal'." "Don't you tell me those 'frivolous boys' have infiltrated Potter's Pond," the priest quipped, smiling. "Oh, even the scandal we're talking about is corny and vulgar. Do I need to say that the old vicar's son is going to give us trouble? If the old vicar's son is acting like he's supposed to be, it's really not normal. Yes. From what I've found, he's quite mild-tempered, even when he's in a mess. He's first seen drinking ale outside the Blue Lion. The thing is, he seems to be a poet, and there A place where poets have the same reputation as poachers."

"That's right," said Father Brown, "even at Potter's Pond it wasn't quite a 'big scandal.'" "Of course not," replied the doctor solemnly. "The really great scandal is this. In Grange Grange, at the very end of the little garden, lives a lady. A reclusive lady. She calls herself Mrs. Maltraves (we shall call her that); But she's only been here for a year or two, and no one knows anything about her. Miss Carstairs-Carew once said 'I can't figure out why she lives here; we don't go to see her.'" "Perhaps that's why she's living here," said Father Brown.

"Oh, her reclusive behavior is suspicious. She is beautiful and well-behaved, which annoys the villagers. The boys in the village are warned not to mess with that slut." "Once people lose their tolerance, they usually lose their sense," lamented Father Brown. "It's just ridiculous, to be resentful of her being a loner and then accuse her of seducing all men." "Indeed," said the doctor. "She's really puzzling, though. I've seen her, and I find her attractive; she's brown, tall, graceful, and pretty, if you know what I mean. She's got Witty, though young enough, strikes me as what people say - oh, sophisticated. Older women would call it a seasoned."

"So many old women at once," quipped Father Brown. "I suppose I can assume she seduced the old vicar's son?" "True, and it seems to have troubled the poor old vicar. She should have been a widow." Father Brown's face twitched, and a rare look of sullenness flashed across his face. "She's supposed to be a widow, and a parson's son is supposed to be a parson's son, and a solicitor is supposed to be a solicitor, and you're supposed to be a doctor. Why shouldn't she be a widow? Don't they have some credentials, Is there any reason to suspect that what the woman said is not the truth?"

Dr. Marlborough raised his broad shoulders abruptly, sat up straight, and said: "Of course you're right again. But we haven't gotten to the scandal yet. Well, what a scandal is, she's a widow." "Alas," exclaimed Father Brown; and then, changing his countenance, he muttered something in a very vague whisper, which must have been "My Lord!" "First," said the doctor, "they have a new discovery. Mrs. Maltraves is an actress." "I thought so too," said Father Brown. "Never mind why. There's another thing I'm imagining about her that's even more outrageous."

"Well, the very fact of her being an actress was scandalous enough at that moment. What the venerable old clergyman thought of was the misery of being a gray-haired man to be carried to his grave by an actress and adventurer." The end, heartbroken, of course. The old girls screamed in unison. The old captain admitted that he had been to the town theater, but was adamantly against what he called the actor's mixing 'among us'. Oh, of course, I No particular aversion to such things. The actress is indeed well-bred, perhaps a little like the 'black lady' in the sonnets. The young man is passionately in love with her; I secretly sympathize with this young man who has gone astray and wanders secretly outside the farm with deep ditches and high walls. My mood is gradually infected by this idyllic love affair, but there are unexpected events. What is more unexpected Yes, as the only person who sympathized with them, I am now the messenger of doom." "Yes," said Father Brown, "why were you sent?" The doctor replied with some complaints: "Because Mrs. Maltraves is not only a widow, she is Mr. Maltraves' widow." "Sounds like you've uncovered a terrible secret," replied Father Brown solemnly. "And Mr. Maltraves," went on his doctor friend, "is evidently the man who was murdered in this little village a year or two ago; supposedly had his head broken by one of the honest villagers." "I remember you told me," said Father Brown. "The doctor, or some doctor, said he was probably clubbed to death." Dr. Marlborough frowned in embarrassment, was silent for a while, and then said abruptly: "Dogs don't fight each other, doctors don't kill each other, even if he is a psychiatrist. I would hate to judge my predecessor at Potter's Pond, if I could avoid it; but I know you can keep your mouth shut. This I'll just tell you that my brilliant predecessor was a damned fool; an old crook who got drunk all the time, and was an absolute dick. First sheriff of the county police (because although I haven't been in the village long, I've been in the I have lived in this county for a long time) asked me to fully investigate this case. I checked the testimonies, reports, etc. related to the investigation of the case, and found that the facts themselves are very simple and there is no problem. Maltraves may was beaten with a sap; he was just an itinerant actor passing through here; the villagers probably thought that a blow to the head of such a man was completely destined. But whoever hit him did not take his According to the description in the report, that kind of injury would make him unconscious for a few hours at most, and would not cause other problems. But I finally found some clues related to this case recently, and judging from the results, the problem is quite serious." The doctor sat sullenly, looking at the scenery passing by the window, and then said more bluntly: "I came here and at the same time asked for your help because I want to open the coffin for an autopsy. There is a high possibility that he was poisoned to death." "Here we are," said Father Brown cheerfully. "I guess you think that since the poor man was poisoned, his wife must be a great suspect." "Of course, no one here seems to have any particular connection with him," replied Dr. Marlborough, and they got off the train. "He did have an eccentric close friend, a down-and-out actor who hung out all day; but both the police and the local solicitor seemed convinced that he was deranged and always looking for trouble; There was a quarrel between the actor and actor, but it was certainly not Maltraves. It must have been an accident, and obviously had nothing to do with the poisoning." By this point, Father Brown had heard the whole story.But he is very clear that in order to fully understand the story, one must first know the characters in the story.In the next two or three days, he wandered around the village non-stop, making up polite excuses one after another, and visited the main actors in the scene one by one.His first interview with the mysterious widow is brief but productive.He learned at least two facts from it: first, that Mrs. Maltraves's conversation was sometimes called "cynical" by Victorian villagers; Naturally, Father Brown would not conclude that she was innocent based on this alone, which was neither logical nor orthodox.He knew that his ancient sect could "boast" several famous poisoners.But it was not difficult for him to understand that in such a case there was a certain connection between it and the intellectual liberty which a Puritan would regard as synonymous with indulgence; , must also be seen as a cosmopolitan notion that rejects all local traditions.In any case, Father Brown was convinced that she had a lot to do with the case, both good and evil.Her brown eyes are aggressive and brave to fight; her big mouth is witty but full of mystery. She mentioned that she has a good impression of the old pastor's poetic son, but she hesitates to speak, as if there is something else in it. Hidden secrets. When the huge storm caused by the scandal swept through the small village, Father Brown met the old pastor's poetic son on the bench outside the Blue Lion Bar. He gave the impression of a gloomy and lonely young man.The son of Rector Samuel Horner, Herrier Horner is a burly man with an arty look in a light gray suit and a light green tie; Long, thick brown hair and a sullen look on his face.But Father Brown had a special knack for making people who refused to speak eloquently explain their reluctance to speak.When talking about the villagers who are keen to spread gossip, the young man began to curse.He even threw in a gossip of his own making.Gritting his teeth, he mentioned that there had been a flirtatious affair between Miss Carstairs-Carew, a Puritan, and Mr. Carver, a solicitor.He even accused the lawyer of having had the audacity to try to get close to Mrs. Maltraves.But when talking about his father, he didn't know whether it was because he wanted to take care of his face even though he harbored resentment, or because he wanted to respect the elders, or because his resentment was beyond words. Just a few words. "Well, that's what it is. He's been calling her night and day for being a flirtatious adventuress; one of those barmaids who dye her hair blond. I told him she wasn't one of those things. You saw it yourself." She, you know she isn't. But he wouldn't even see her, not even in the street or through a window. He felt that an actress would pollute his house and his holy existence. If someone said he A stodgy Puritan, he'd be proud to say he was a Puritan." "Your father's views," said Father Brown, "of course deserve respect, whatever they may be; and I can't understand them myself. But I do agree that he shouldn't treat a man Jumping to conclusions from a woman you’ve never met, then refusing to look at her to see if you’re right. It’s illogical.” "That's what makes him stubborn," the young man responded. "Not even a face-to-face meeting. And, of course, he threw a fit over my other theatrical preferences." Father Brown quickly seized upon this new subject, and by it learned as much as he wanted to know.A love of poetry became one of the blemishes on the young man's character, and he wrote almost exclusively dramatic poetry.He wrote tragedies in verse that were admired by connoisseurs.He is not a fool who aspires to be an actor, in fact he is not foolish in any way.He had an original idea of ​​how Shakespeare could be better performed; and it was not surprising that he would have been so ecstatic and delighted to discover such a remarkable lady as the home of Grange Grange. elated.The priest's appreciation and sympathy actually calmed the rebellious heart of Potter's Pond Village.He actually smiled when they parted. It was this smile that made Father Brown suddenly realize that this young man was indeed living in misery: if he frowned, he was probably just sullen; sad. After talking to the poet, something still haunts the priest.His intuition told him that some kind of grief was biting the heart of this strong young man, and that kind of sadness was not just caused by the traditional stories where the old-fashioned parents set up obstacles in the young man's pursuit of true love. .But there was no other obvious reason at present, which puzzled the priest even more.As far as literature and drama were concerned, the young man had achieved modest success; his books were arguably popular; he neither drank heavily nor squandered his acquired fortune.He gets a bad rap for reveling in the Blue Lion for nothing more than a glass of ale; in fact he seems to be keeping a close eye on his pocketbook.Herrier earned a lot of money but spent very little. Father Brown thought that this situation might be related to another matter. Thinking of this, he couldn't help but feel gloomy. Father Brown's next call was Miss Carstairs-Carew, who, of course, spoke of the vicar's son in a deliberate manner.But when she attacked the young people, she listed various special vices that did not exist in the priest's view, and Father Brown could only attribute them to the mixture of Puritan customs and rumors.Yet the lady, despite her pretensions, was quite gracious; she served her guests with a small glass of port wine and a small slice of torte, making one feel like an ordinary great-aunt.Father Brown manages to escape her home just in time, before she begins a tirade about moral decay and general lack of parenting. Where Father Brown was going next was very different from here.For he was going down a dark and dirty alley which Miss Carstairs-Carew would not have even thought of.He entered a narrow rented house, and there was someone in the attic who was preaching impassionedly and loudly, which made the place even more noisy and chaotic... When he appeared again, he had a rather confused look on his face expression, followed by a very excited man, has been chasing him to the sidewalk.The man's chin was livid, and he was wearing a black coat that had faded to dark green. He yelled, as if he was arguing with others: "He didn't disappear! Maltraves will never disappear! He appeared : He showed up after death, and I still show up alive. But where is the rest of the troupe? The one who deliberately stole my lines, made fun of some of my best scenes, and ruined my career as an actor Where is the monster? I played Tubal the best ever. He played Sherlock - a role that never had to be acted! And a godsend of my entire career as an actor! I can get you some clippings, Let you see how the newspapers of the year commented on my role as Fortinbras—" "I'm sure they think highly of you, and you deserve it," the little priest gasped. "As far as I know, the troupe left the village before Maltraves died. But that's nothing. It's really nothing." He continued on. "He's about to play Polonius," went on the Orator, still on his heels.Father Brown was nailed to the spot. "Oh," he said slowly, "he's going to play Polonius." "That villain Hankin!" screamed the actor. "Go after him! To the end of the world! He has left the village, of course; and in his nature, absolutely will. Follow him—go to him, may damnation—" But the priest did not wait for him to finish. He hurried away along the side street. After this dramatic scene, the next two interviews seemed too plain or practical.The priest first went to the bank and talked with the manager alone for 10 minutes; then he went to the amiable old pastor's house politely.Here, as stated, nothing has changed and does not seem to change; the tiny crucifix on the wall, the tome of the Bible on the desk, and the old priest lamenting the increasing neglect of worship. Every day, all of them show the influence of the ascetic tradition on him; but behind all these, there is a kind of noble life charm everywhere, without losing its elegance and traces of luxury that have washed away the lead. The pastor also poured a glass of port wine for the guests, but instead of a nut cake, he brought a small British snack with a long tradition.The priest felt that strange feeling again: everything was so perfect, as if he was in a scene of life a century ago.There was only one point where the old pastor was reluctant to appear amiable: he was modest but firm, claiming that his conscience would not allow him to meet an actor.Still, Father Brown thanked him repeatedly as he put down his glass of port to say goodbye; then he went to meet his doctor friend on the street corner as promised, and they went together to the office of solicitor Carver. "I think it must be dull for you to go around," said the doctor, "you will find this little village really boring." Father Brown yelled back, in an almost shrill voice: "Don't ever call your village 'boring.' I assure you: it's a very unusual village." "I'm afraid I'm dealing with the only unusual thing that's ever happened here," remarked the doctor, "and even that happened to an outsider. Perhaps I should tell you that they were ignorant last night." The coffin was unknowingly dug up; I did an autopsy this morning. Simply put, we dug up a poisoned body." "A corpse full of poison?" Father Brown repeated absently. "Believe me, there are more unusual things in your village than this." A silence fell suddenly, and then, just as suddenly, on the porch of the lawyer's house, the old bell-ring was tugged.They were soon introduced to the lawyer, who introduced them to a gentleman with gray hair and a sallow face with a scar, who appeared to be the old fishing captain. At this moment, the atmosphere of this small village has almost completely penetrated into the priest's subconscious mind, but he is still clearly aware that the lawyer in front of him is indeed suitable to serve villagers like Miss Carstairs-Carew.Although the lawyer exudes an ancient atmosphere, it is not enough to make people feel that he is really a fossil, which may be related to his integration with the ancient environment; but the priest once again has that strange feeling: he himself has been transplanted By the early 19th century, not lawyers lived until the early 20th century.The lawyer's collar and cravat were like a grafting rootstock, with the new branch between them being his long chin; but they looked clean and sharp; Just a little blunt.All in all, he is a well-preserved specimen, even if it was partly caused by instantaneous fossilization. The lawyer, the old fishing captain, and even the doctor were surprised to find that Father Brown, despite the fact that the villagers felt sorry for the pastor, wanted to side with the pastor's son. "I find this young friend attractive, and I see it that way myself," he said. "He's actually quite talkative, and I suppose he's a good poet; and Mrs. Maltraves says he's a good actor, and that's what she means, at least." "Actually," said the lawyer. "Except for Mrs. Maltraves, the villagers are more concerned about whether he is a good son or not." "He's a good son," replied Father Brown. "That happens to be an extraordinary thing." "Damn him!" said the old captain indignantly. "You mean he cared about his father?" The priest hesitated, then said, "I'm not quite sure of that. That's another extraordinary thing." "What exactly do you want to say?" the old captain asked rudely. "I mean," said Father Brown, "as a son, he always spoke of his father in a bitter, unforgiving tone, but he did more than he could to his father. I found Talked to the bank manager and told him we were undercover investigating a serious crime under police authority, and he told me the truth. The old priest is retired and no longer rector. Actually, this was never his real parish. .These people were generally heathen, and, if they did not forget to go to church, they probably went more often to the theater at Dutton-Abbott, which was less than a mile from here. The old man had no other income of his own, but he The son earns a lot of money; the old man has been very well looked after. The port wine he served me is definitely old; I also saw rows of dusty bottles. When I left his house, he was about to enjoy it A quaint fine lunch. Must have all come about on young people's income." "What a model son," said Carver, a little contemptuously. Father Brown nodded, frowning, as if pondering over one of his own riddles, and said, "A model son. Rather, a son forced to be a model." Just then, a clerk brought the lawyer an unstamped letter.The lawyer glanced at it and tore the envelope impatiently.The moment the letter was torn open, Father Brown caught a glimpse of the handwriting, densely packed like a spider's web, signed "Phoenix Fitzgerald."The priest casually revealed the identity of the writer, and the lawyer readily affirmed his guess. "It's the theater actor who keeps pestering us," the lawyer responded. "He had a rivalry with a dead fellow actor, but that had nothing to do with the case. We all refused to see him except the doctor, who saw him and decided he was crazy." "That's right," said Father Brown, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "I should say he's crazy. But there's no doubt he's right in what he said." "Yeah?" Carver screamed. "What did he say right?" "As to the connection between this case and the old theater company," said Father Brown. "You know what confuses me the most about this story? It's what people usually say, because Maltraves humiliated the village and was killed by angry villagers. The coroner actually convinced the jury that this and the journalists, it's unbelievable how gullible they are. They don't know English country folks so well. I'm an English country man myself, at least I grew up in Essex like the turnips. You guys It is conceivable that an English farmer would idealize and even personify his village, just like the citizens of the ancient Greek city-states who drew their swords to defend their holy banner, and like the residents of a republic in a small Italian city in the Middle Ages did not hesitate to fight with others. or draw a sword on the holy banner of the village, like the inhabitants of some medieval little republic in an Italian town? Have you ever heard an elder proclaim, 'Only blood can wash Potter's Pond village A blot on the coat of arms'? St. George and the dragon can testify, if only they could! However, I actually have another explanation, based on more realistic grounds." The priest paused for a moment, as if to collect his thoughts, and then went on: "They misunderstood poor Maltraves' last words. He didn't vilify their little village in front of the villagers. He was right Said by an actor; they're going to have a show in which Fitzgerald plays Fortinbras, that Hankin we don't know plays Polonius, and Maltraves plays undoubtedly Danish Prince. Maybe some actor wanted to play that part or had his own idea of ​​how to play that part; Maltraves said angrily: 'You will play a dirty little Hamlet', and it was heard as a small village; In fact, that's what happened." Dr. Marlborough was dumbfounded; he seemed to be savoring the truth of the new theory.Before anyone else could speak, he finally said, "What do you think we should do now?" Father Brown stood up suddenly, but his tone was quite calm: "If the two gentlemen allow, I suggest that you and I, the doctor, should go to Horner's house immediately. I know that the pastor and his son are at home now. I I hope you do. I don't think the people in the village know that you've had a dead body experience and don't know the outcome. I just want you to tell the pastor and his son the facts of the case on the spot and simply say: Maltraves is not dead Instead of being beaten with a stick, he was poisoned and died." Dr. Marlborough had been skeptical at first when he heard the priest say that this was an unusual village, but he had every reason to re-evaluate his attitude now.When he put the priest's plan into practice, the series of scenes that appeared in front of him can only be described by what people often say 'can't believe my eyes'. Rector Samuel Horner stands, his black robes setting off his formidable silver hair; he now rests one hand on the lectern where he often stood to study the Bible It is possible that he happened to meet him right now, but this gesture made him look even more dignified.Directly across from him, his rebellious son curled up in a chair, smoking a cheap cigarette, scowling; a vivid picture of an irreverent young man. The old man waved Father Brown gracefully to his seat.Father Brown went over and sat down, without saying a word, just staring at the ceiling indifferently.But Dr. Marlborough had a feeling that his message was so important that it seemed better to stand up and speak. "I feel," he said, "as a sort of spiritual father to this community, that you should be told that the terrible tragedy that has been here has taken on a new twist, perhaps even worse. Do you remember Malte As for the tragic death of Rafes, he was judged to have been beaten to death with a stick, probably by villagers who were hostile to him." The pastor waved his hand and said, "If what I said was understood to justify any kind of murderous violence, then I shouldn't have said it. But if an actor comes to this simple village with evil, he is challenging God." Judgment." "Perhaps so," said the doctor gravely. "But in any case, the judgment should not have come in this way. I have just been ordered to dissect the body; I can assure you: first, the club wound on the head cannot be fatal; second, the body is full of poison. There is no doubt that he died of poisoning." Young Herrier Horner tossed the cigarette, leaped up like a lithe, swift cat, and stopped within a step of the lectern. "Are you sure?" he asked nervously. "Are you 100 percent sure he wasn't clubbed to death?" "Quite sure," replied the doctor. "Well," Herrier said, "hope it kills." It was too late to say it, and before everyone could react, Herrier punched the priest's mouth fiercely, and the priest flew to the door like a black puppet that had come off its strings. "What are you doing?" cried Dr. Marlborough, startled by the blow, trembling all over. "Father Brown, what's the matter with the madman?" But Father Brown was indifferent, still staring at the ceiling calmly. "I've been waiting for him to do this," the priest said quietly. "I find it odd how he didn't do that earlier." "My God!" cried the doctor. "I know we've all more or less wronged him; but beating his father; beating a clergyman and a powerless man—" "He didn't hit his father, he didn't hit the priest," said Father Brown. "He hit an actor dressed as a priest, a blackmailer who had been sucking his blood for years like a leech. Now that he knows he doesn't have to fear being blackmailed anymore, he's let it go; I don't want to Just blame him. Especially since I suspect the blackmailer was also the poisoner. I think, Marlborough, you'd better ring up the police." They walked past the two of them and out of the room.那两人谁也没有阻拦，其中一位仍然是一脸迷茫和诧异，另一位仍大口喘着气，既感到解脱后的轻松，又无法抑制胸中燃烧的狂烈怒火。不过，在他们擦身而过时，布朗神父的脸不经意地转向了那个年轻人，于是这年轻人就成了在这张脸上看到如此冷峻表情的寥寥数人之一。 “他那句话是对的，”布朗神父说道。“要是一个演员带着邪恶来到这个淳朴的村子，他就是在挑战天主的审判。” 布朗神父和医生再次上了停靠在波特池塘村车站的火车，他们在车厢里坐定后，神父说：“好啦，就像你说的，这是个奇怪的故事；但我想这不再是个神秘的故事了。不管怎么说，在我看来这故事的情节是这样的。马尔特拉夫斯来了这里，与他同行的还有巡游剧团的一部分成员；他们中的一些人直接去了达顿－阿博特，并将在那里演出有关19世纪初期的情节剧。他本人身上穿着戏服在附近闲逛，那套戏服与众不同，碰巧是19世纪初期纨绔子弟的打扮；另一个角色是位守旧的牧师，他的黑袍不那么显眼，人们很容易当它是样子老旧而已。扮演这个角色的是位老人，他扮演的角色多数都是老人；他曾经扮演过夏洛克，还将扮演波洛尼厄斯。 “第三个人就是我们的戏剧诗人，他本人也是个演员，就如何塑造哈姆雷特这个角色与马尔特拉夫斯发生了争吵，不过，更多的恐怕是关于他们两人之间的一些私事。我想他很可能从那时起就爱上了马尔特拉夫斯太太；我认为他们俩也没什么不对的，我也希望他们现在能如愿以偿。但他很可能会将马尔特拉夫斯视为情敌而恨他，因为马尔特拉夫斯为人蛮横霸道，会无端生事。在这次争吵中他们动了棍子，诗人狠狠地朝马尔特拉夫斯的脑袋上打了一棍子，然后，根据当时的验尸结果，完全可以认定他一棍子打死了马尔特拉夫斯。 “当时还有第三者在场或者了解到了这次意外，他就是扮演老牧师的那个人；他趁机开始敲诈那个所谓的凶手，逼着他供养自己过上一个退休教区长的高雅生活。显而易见，在这种地方他扮成退休教区长是顺理成章的事，他只需要继续穿着自己的戏服就行了。但他选择这样做时自有另外一种理由。因为马尔特拉夫斯死亡的真相是这样的：马尔特拉夫斯被打倒后滚进了林子里的欧洲蕨丛中，后来逐渐清醒过来，想要走进一栋房子，但他倒在了半路上；让他最终倒下的不是棍击，而是那位仁慈的牧师在一小时前给他下的毒，很可能是混在了他喝的那杯波特酒里。就在他给我倒了一杯波特酒时，我开始想到了这一点。这让我有点紧张。警方已经开始着手调查是不是这么回事；但他们能否证明这一点，我也没把握。他们必须确认真正的动机；不过，这群演员之间的争吵显然是家常便饭，而马尔特拉夫斯也结了不少怨。” “既然疑犯已经明确了，警方应该能找到一些证据，”马尔伯勒医生说道。“我不明白的是你是怎么起的疑心。究竟是什么让你开始怀疑这个无懈可击的黑袍绅士的呢？” 布朗神父微微一笑，说道：“我想，在某种意义上，这涉及到了专业知识，几乎算是一个职业问题，但又很特别。你知道，我们有些论辩家经常抱怨说，人们对我们宗教的真实情况一无所知。其实更稀奇的不只是这一点。英格兰不了解罗马教会，这是真的，而且也很正常。但英格兰也不了解英格兰教会，甚至还不如我知道的多。你肯定想不到普通民众对圣公宗内的派别纷争了解极少；很多人实际上并不真的明白'高教会派'和'低教会派'究竟是什么意思，甚至不清楚他们在敬拜礼仪上都有哪些区别，更别说与这两派相关的历史渊源和它们所代表的理念。你能在任何报纸上、任何纯粹的通俗小说或戏剧中看到这种无知。 “最让我感到震惊的是这位可敬的牧师竟然全都弄混了。没有一位圣公宗牧师能在涉及圣公宗的问题上错的如此。他本该属于一种历史悠久的保守主义的高教会派，但又自诩为清教徒。像他这样的人，在个人生活上可以酷似清教徒，但他绝对不会自诩为清教徒。他声称害怕跟戏剧有关的东西；可他不知道高教会的信徒一般不会对戏剧心存畏惧，只有低教会的信徒才会这样。在谈到安息日时他表现得很像是清教徒，但他又在房间里挂耶稣受难像那种十字架。他显然不知道一个真正虔诚的牧师该是什么样子的，他只知道要在人前表现出庄重、可敬的样子，并且反对人们追求人世间的享乐。 “这些天来，我的潜意识中活动着一个念头，可我一直没有想不出到底是什么；后来它突然显现出来了。这个形象正是舞台上的牧师啊。这正是一个面目模糊而又可敬的老傻瓜形象，非常符合老派通俗剧作家或演员想要表现的那种古怪的宗教人物。” “更不要说一个老派医生了，”马尔伯勒医生打趣地说，“他根本就不用心去了解宗教人士都有什么特点。” “事实上，”布朗神父继续道，“让我起疑的还有一个更单纯也更明显的原因。这与住在格兰奇田庄的黑女士有关，她被视为小村里的吸血鬼。” “我很早就有种印象，她这个村里的污点，其实是个亮点。人们都认为她很神秘，但她身上并没有什么神秘可言。她最近才来到这里，并没有刻意隐瞒自己，用的是真名实姓，她来此地的目的是协助对她丈夫死因的最新一轮调查。她丈夫待她并不好，但她有自己的原则，认为无论就她的婚姻还是普遍正义而言她都该设法澄清这件事。出于同样的理由，她选择住在自己丈夫被人发现死亡的现场附近那幢房子里。除了小村里的吸血鬼以外，牧师那个放荡不羁的儿子被视为小村里的丑闻，这同样属于清白无辜和简单明了的情况。他同样没有试图掩饰他的职业或者他以前也干过演员这行。这也是为什么我没有像怀疑牧师那样怀疑他。不过，我想你已经猜到促使我怀疑牧师的真正和直接的原因了。” “不错。我想我明白了，”医生说，“所以你要提起那位女演员的名字。” “是的，我指的是他极力排斥与女演员见面这一点，”神父说道。“但他不是真的排斥与她见面，而是竭尽所能不让她见到自己。” “我明白你的意思了，”医生表示赞同。“假如她见到塞缪尔·霍纳牧师的真面目，会立刻认出这就是那位并不可敬的演员汉金，他假借牧师的身份掩饰其丑恶的真面目。好啦，那就是这个淳朴小村田园诗的全部内容了。不过，你得承认我履行了承诺；我向你展示了这个村子里有比一具尸体、甚至一肚子毒药的尸体还让人毛骨悚然的东西。在牧师黑袍里面藏着一个敲诈勒索者，至少这是值得注意的一件事，而我的活人比你的死人还致命。” “确实如此，”神父边说，边仰身向后，舒适地倚在靠垫上，“要说找个称心的火车旅伴，我宁愿选择那具尸体。”